Rock Star Band Wars
by SpiritOfTheWhiteSun
Summary: What happens when Rock Band meets Star Wars? Well I guess you'll just have to read and find out! Assuming of course that you're reading this stupid summary. At this point you should just click the above link and read the dumb story so...well then. Obidala


**Disclaimer:** I don't own Star Wars. Sadly. But I DO own Rock Band it's mine all Mine! i wish. Also you people should know that most if not all of my Star Wars fics are in an Obidala world. Deal.

"Suck." Obi Wan muttered under his breath. "I _knew_ this was a bad idea…"

"What was a bad idea, Master?" Anakin called from where he was sitting on the couch, what could be called a drumset sitting in front of him.

"Well let's see here," said Obi Wan,"A: making me sing, of all things, B: making me _play_ the dumb game at all, C: _getting_ the stupid thing in the first place, or D: all of the above!"

"Cmon Master you know you're having fun," grinned Anakin.

Obi Wan made no reply, only muttering inaudibly into his beard.

* * *

When Padme had brought home the Wii, that had been bad enough. The controller had stubbornly refused to read Obi Wan's movements. Then, with the excuse 'a senator needs recreation too you know' she had gone and bought Rock Band for the Wii. This was only a few days ago, and Anakin was already kicking butt at it. Master Windu was a pretty decent player too, but Padme herself hardly played at all. All Qui Gon could do, of course, was complain about the limitations of being a Jedi Spirit. And Obi Wan sucked like a vacuum cleaner.

They were all currently gathered in Padme's and Obi Wan's apartment at Five Hundred Republica, plus Yoda and Bail Organa, the Kenobis' good friend. Somehow Jar Jar had ended up there too, all of his hard-won senator composure lost in the excitement at the party.

So far, Anakin's and Mace's Jedi reflexes had served them well, racking up an impressive amount of points. Obi Wan's own reflexes didn't seem to agree with videogames at all. Yoda hadn't yet given the game a try, and Qui Gon could only watch. Padme nor Bail had yet played that night, and the most surprising bit was that Jar Jar wasn't bad(considering), and was coming close to rivaling Mace. This of course only lowered Obi Wan's self esteem, never mind what his wife or anyone else told him.

Handing the microphone to Anakin, Obi Wan moved off to the snack table. Or rather, the feast table; Padme's cooking plus the sides and desserts that everyone else had brought had the plates jostling one another and the table sagging slightly.

In the Force, Obi Wan felt his wife follow him. She slipped an arm around his waist. He returned the embrace almost unconsciously as he surveyed the huge selection of food before him.

"Don't you think you've overdone it just a little bit, dear?" Obi Wan inquired, leaning forward to pluck a cookie from the midst of its fellows.

"No…" Padme moved her arm from around his waist so that her fingers could find his. "Why, do you think so?"

"Of course not, I was just asking you," Obi Wan replied.

"Mmm hmm," she muttered disbelievingly, stifling a laugh.

Obi Wan munched on his cookie thoughtfully for a moment. When he finally swallowed and opened his mouth to speak, it was in vain.

"I know what you're going to say, and no, you are in no way skilled at any form of videogame entertainment," said Padme before he could utter a word. "But you don't need to impress me with you fabulous singing skills," she added, giving his hand an affectionate squeeze.

"I think my Force sensitivity is somehow rubbing off on you," laughed Obi Wan, "But that's only half of it; I was going to suggest making Bail play guitar next song. It could produce some entertaining results…" he trailed off thoughtfully.

Padme agreed, deciding it was a good idea.

But there was no need; the couple wandered back to where everyone was sitting and found Bail already playing. His bandmates were also amazingly unbelievable: Yoda was perched on the edge of the drum stool, a drum stick in each green, gnarled hand. And Qui Gon was singing. Anakin was sitting next to him, holding the microphone for the Master. Apparently the game could pick up the pitch of Qui Gon's voice, though he seemed to only be humming.

When the song was over, everyone looked at the TV screen to see the results. Bail, earning himself a 98, was now Anakin's official rival. Qui Gon hadn't done bad, 90, but then singing didn't require much hand(or foot)-eye coordination. Yoda had scored 67.

"Trip me up, the stupid foot pedal did," said Yoda in an irritated voice.

Obi Wan unsuccessfully stifled a snicker behind his hand as he looked at the small green alien; he was standing on the stool, therefore unable to reach the pedal.

"Heard that, I did, young Obi Wan," said Yoda angrily, annoyed, and jabbed his gimer stick at Obi Wan, who got the full force of it in his thigh.

"Ow!"

"Deserve it, you do!" yelled Yoda, relentlessly attacking.

Jar Jar tried to interfere. "Breaken up disen fight, noble Jedis," he said, coming between predator and prey. Which was a mistake on his part, receiving a good thwack in the ribs. The gungan yelped and retreated.

Finally Padme came between the two Masters, and Yoda, unwilling to attack this particular senator, contented himself with muttering "size matters not" over and over under his breath.

While Anakin and Bail were arguing over who should play drums next, Qui Gon got up and said to Obi Wan, "Well that wasn't so bad was it?"

Obi Wan paused his knuckle sucking(his hand was bright red thanks to Yoda's cane)and looked at his former master. "Which one, Yoda's beating or your singing?"

Qui Gon looked offended. "My singing, of course!"

Obi Wan tried not to roll his eyes as he replied, "No, not bad at all," then stuck his knuckles back into his mouth.

Qui Gon frowned as he said, "I thought we got rid of that particular habit of yours while you were an apprentice."

Obi Wan, surprised, said around his hand, "Wot?"

"The hand sucking."

"Well, it came back," though it sounded more like, "Weh, ih cay bah."

It was Qui Gon's turn to roll his eyes. "Well, stop!"

"Naw!"

"Yes!"

"May muh!"

"What?"

Obi Wan removed his hand from his mouth and said, "Make. Me!"

Qui Gon snickered. "Didn't need to."

Obi Wan glared at him, then once again put his fingers in his mouth.

"At least find some hand sanitizer when you're done," said Anakin, who was sitting nearby on the couch, sulking after losing the argument with Bail over who should play drums.

Obi Wan glared at him too, then stomped off toward the kitchen.

Qui Gon sighed. "He wasn't always this cranky, was he?" he asked Anakin.

Anakin shrugged. "Kinda," then went back to sulking.

* * *

The party was progressing well into the night.

Suddenly Obi Wan had a thought. He called Padme over.

"Where's Threepio? He's usually fussing about, offering people drinks. And Artoo."

"Oh, Artoo's looking through some speeches for me, and I powered down Threepio and stashed him in the closet. Why?"

Obi Wan blinked, then said, "Oh..." privately hoping to himself that Padme would never power HIM down and stick him in the closet.

* * *

Reviews are nice!

Sorry if it was kinda an upbrupt(however you spell that)ending, I just felt like it was dragging on a little, and I couldn't find a better place to end it. Oh well...cut me some slack, its my first star wars humor.


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